


An Entry Of Her Own

by areneecz



Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Death, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Manipulation, One Shot, Random & Short, Sad, Sad Ending, Short, Short One Shot, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14105049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areneecz/pseuds/areneecz
Summary: The events that conspired a short time after the conclusion of "The Hoffman Entries."





	An Entry Of Her Own

A month had passed, a month that she took to heart, a month avoiding work, a month ignoring the constant phone calls from the department, a month spent enduring numerous unending surgeries, in and out of the hospital to repair what sat broken, stitching and binding, days spent finding the perfect replacement, pain, phantom or not, still lingering, still present, a month of attempting to forget the hellish foggy cloud that plagued her thoughts. Bruises still wracked her form, still persisted, still managed to linger, circular wounds holding her wrists hostage, the chill, the burn of binding chains that once held her. Her mind reeled, sick, absolutely fucking sick. Kramer, her own father, her own blood, turning against her, forcing her to endure what she worked so steadily to protect, her secret, her family, her father. Hoffman. He'd taken Hoffman, and for that, for that she could never forgive him. Herself, twisted and unlovable, fighting her own demons for so long only to find another who's demons matched her's so perfectly only to rip him away, only to rob her of yet another luxury, to rob her of what she truly deserved. 

Papers collected, piles of work and packages from the FBI, information of her, of Hoffman that she had managed to swipe from the department before vanishing, before locking herself away and falling victim to complete silence. The bloodied badge that had fallen into her possession was her most precious air-loom, the one thing she looked to in times of strife and panic, a calming let go of what she had lost, and what she would fight so consistently to get back, the glittering gold of the badge was the only clean object, the surrounding furniture and trinkets covered in layers of dust, prey to abandonment, emotion. Her mind reeled, a never-ending replay of the short time she spent with Hoffman, the teasing notions and curious manner he radiated, the absolutely cockiness he bestowed upon others, the attributes she missed and would never witness again. Her thoughts churned as an echoing knock filled the small apartment complex, another employee, another member of staff sent from the FBI to check on her, to note her condition and report it back to headquarters, slinking away from the couch she lazily swayed, lifeless and weighted as she fought her feet, painfully hobbling for the door. Hands, delicate and manicured as they danced over the wooden door, trailing up the golden circle, the pane of glass that allowed her view, the singular peephole. Lining up her vision she stared out, a sickness churning her stomach as she recognized the draping linen of the cloak that flowed, draped around the aging figure, a sickness rolled as she stood eyeing her father. John Kramer.

Her stomach began to churn in an unearthly manor, dizziness taking over her being as she eyed her father through the glistening peephole. Her own flesh and blood who had managed to betray her in such an inhumane way, who thrust the man she had loved so dearly from her atmosphere. Tears threatened her vision as anger began to fuel her, a red hot hatred for her own father, the one who she thought to be trustworthy, the one who she devoted her entire life, title for and vowed to keep alive. But now that legacy was dead, it had died, died with the man she sought to keep. Searching through endless memories she finally settled, letting out a sigh as she put all emotions aside. Rashly she decided, opening the door for the first time in months. Peering out she stood, eyes narrowed at her father who took note of the sudden figure.

"Why are you here?" She drawled, a bitter venom on her tongue as she fought the urge to pummel, to arrest the man before her and finally bring the countless victims he tortured justice. Fists clenched she stood, a violent vibration shaking her form, a burrowed anger as red hot tears streamed her face. "What do you want?" She questioned, a fumble, a bite of skin as she limped, false limb heavy and unmanageable in her current emotional state.

"To congratulate you." John exclaimed, brow furrowed as a expression of worry set his aged features into motion. His eyes watched you, dancing over the little imperfections, from the still lingering bruises to the heavy metal brace that supplied her the chance to walk again. His slacked face sat cold, emotionless and barren as he failed to show any worry, any form of compassion. He stood a hollow figure, hidden from the outside world, the elements, it was a rare occasion to see him, to witness him outside of witness protection, hiding. "Facing loss is hard, I know that better than most." He continued. Mind reeling, back to his baby, his wife, the loss of both, the first event that had sprung his madness into action, the first stage. Compassion, she wished something, any single shred of compassion, caring, had managed to survive but alas it was gone, like most of the defining factors of Kramer's life.

"Congratulate me for what?" She questioned, hatred fueling her form as she continued to eye her father, grip around the cold door knob tight, lethal. Teeth clenched as she fought the urge to jump forward. "I don't want your fucking felicitations." She hissed, tears streaming her bruised face as she swung the wooden panel, door ultimately propped open as John shoved his foot forward.

"Anger is not your best strong suit." Kramer hummed, a jerk as he pulled his foot from the ajar door, eyeing the form that stood before him as he internally fought himself, rash and indecisive, he knew good from bad, he was able to note his wrongdoings, if he would speak on them was another story. Emotion. Was the cruel beast before her even capable of that? Grief set into her being as she eyed the dull blue that eyed her back, the only man left, the only family connecting her, keeping her grounded, her mind reeled. "I gave you a chance, just as I did everyone else, getting close to Hoffman was of your doing." He informed, a sharp comment escaping pursed lips as he gripped the cloak tighter around his waist.

"Are you fucking serious?" She barked, looking at her father, anger fueling as her fists clenched, by her side as she stared him down, the man who had ruined her life for good, taken any last lingering thread of hope and tore it apart right before her very eyes. "You lowlife scum, you fucking roach." She hissed, insult after insult sharp on her tongue as slitted eyes watched the elderly man before her. There was no turning back, there was no getting Hoffman back, everything that she had worked so hard for was gone, ripped away, she had no words, nothing left to retort, with a breathy whine she continued. "Get out of my apartment." She hissed a single sentence escaping her mouth, washing over her lips as she tears streaked her cherry red cheeks, memories and thoughts a whirlwind as she roughly forced the draining fluid away. "Now." She gritted, a single world, sharp and edged as it cut through the air, froze her to the core.

"I suppose it's for the best." John sadly hummed, a whir as he pocketed his hands, grip tightening around his hood as he swayed, feet indecisive as they moved to and fro. Sad. Somehow he seemed sad, somehow he radiated some form of sorrow, a cold sadness lacking any empathy, a ruse of pity, a teasing trick. Blue eyes washed over her, a colliding wave against the sand of her form as she fought her restraints, the heavy metal wedge that weighed her down, the pain of standing too long as she wobbled painfully. "Understanding comes through communication." He hummed, a riddle, another puzzle to solve, everything about him a trick, a game. Voice deep he altered, the rush of folks within the hall as some entered and others exited, eyes curious, ghosting over the hidden figure as he stood before the oddly placed hallway door, not lingering to long, only long enough to take note, to eye his form. "And through understanding we find the way to peace." Kramer informed, a turning expression shaping his lips as he offered her a sad smile, an aggravating example that boiled her blood, heated her being as the urge to pummel grew in intensity. "I hope you find that peace, (Y/N)." He finished, smile vanishing as he lowered his hood, hiding his face from the world.

"Peace." She muttered, teeth clenched as she watched her father disappear. His lanky figure folding over, desperately clinging to the cloak as it hid his figure. Quickly he moved, on his feet as he avoided any other, erased from view as he fled down a back staircase, a set of staff only stairs that he had managed to access, avoiding the elevator as he vanished entirely. "Peace the you took." She grumbled, throat ablaze as angry words begged to be freed, turning she calmed herself, enough to gain composure, enough to close the door behind her before resulting to anger. "Peace that you murdered." She hissed, hands fumbling as they locked the door, spinning on her heels she left, heading for a firm surface to rest her aching leg. "Peace that died with Hoffman." She finished, collapsing atop the couch as the metal holding her hostage whined and moaned in response.

Pulling her knees up to her chest she leaned her head back, firmly pressed into the material of the surrounding couch as she let her tears flow. She had nothing, no motivation, no career, no family, no Hoffman, utterly and entirely alone as she pulled her legs closer. Reeling from her attack she sat, lost, alone, sawed in two.


End file.
